


The grass smells nice

by rapono



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Based on a Dream, Exhaustion, Giving Up, dumb, escaping, sorta ooc, unexpected actions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 08:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19663378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapono/pseuds/rapono
Summary: I escaped, injured from the means, but I'm out. I lay on the grass in a crumpled heap, sore and exhausted. I should keep running, but everything hurts, and well, the grass smells nice.





	The grass smells nice

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a dumb little dream I had soon after I read the ending of Midway into the Dream (but was inspired by the ending of its prequel, The Beginning of the End). Finally decided to put this dumb little scenario into fic form. This is stupid but I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Some context I forgot to give: You're in the Myers house, and you jump out a window.

The glass broke around me, shards jabbing through my clothes and tearing my skin as I lept through the window. Behind me, a hand outstretched, a moments hesitation away. Had I paused for a second, I certainly would’ve been caught.

But my joy from escape was soon dampened as I hit the ground hard, harder than I had expected. I hadn’t planned my landing either, too focused on the jump before to plan ahead. I tumbled and crumped to the grassy ground below, adding bruises to my cuts and scrapes.

Splayed across a grassy yard, I tried to get up, only to be hit with pain and dizziness. So I gave up, giving into the heavy exhaustion that came with the drain of adrenaline.

Well, at least the grass smells nice.

Then I heard it, then I saw him. I hadn’t escaped, only made things more difficult for him, and had undoubtedly made this worse for myself.

I still felt paralyzed, unable to get up, and now, maybe frozen in fear as well. Still breathing in the sweet grass, his boots came down inches in front of my face. This was it, he was going to crush my head beneath his boots.

But, he didn’t. Instead, the big murderous man decided to squat down beside me, eyes roaming my limp form.

Then he promptly lay on top of me.

_What the fu-_

He was _heavy,_ my chest and lungs being crushed under his weight, but still able to breathe. I wheezed from the sudden weight on top of me, as I tried to process what the fuck had just happened.

He, he hadn't stabbed me. Or choked me. Or decided I didn’t need a certain limb anymore. This fucking serial killer decided that no, he just wanted to lie his fat ass on top on me.

“Michael get off me.” The words were strained and breathy, but still understandable.

He either didn’t hear me, or elected to ignore me. Annoyed, I tried to squirm out from under him, but alas, I was stuck.

I sighed, going limp once more, and getting a good whiff of both the lawn and his smelly ass. 

Well, this could’ve been a lot worse. I could’ve been dead.

So with literally nowhere to go, I gave into my earlier exhaustion, and fell asleep underneath the Shape.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be from the reader's pov but I accidentally wrote it from the perspective of "I" instead of "you". I tried changing it but the words just didn't flow as well.


End file.
